


Piece of Cake

by NETHERW4RT



Series: Requests/Prompts [2]
Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Baking, Established Relationship, Flirting, Fluff, Kissing, M/M, Romance, Swearing, Teasing, dream just really wants to kiss george but george just wants to bake the damn cake, thats it thats the story, two white guys make out instead of making a cake: the story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 08:20:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,111
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27679990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NETHERW4RT/pseuds/NETHERW4RT
Summary: Baking a cake is a lot harder when your boyfriend won’t stop bothering you, George realizes.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Series: Requests/Prompts [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2013379
Comments: 28
Kudos: 507





	Piece of Cake

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fattogatto](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fattogatto/gifts).



> a bit rushed at the end, but it’s here :)
> 
> also i almost used a lazytown lyric for the title so it’s either this or that lmao

Dream leaned forward, scooping his finger through the bowl of whipped cream and dotting it against George’s nose.

“ _Dream_ ,” George scolded, though he was giggling. He reached up and wiped off the cream, licking it off his finger without any regards to the growing grin on Dream’s face. “Don’t,” he warned.

“Don’t what?” Dream chirped innocently.

“You know what.”

“Oh, do I?” Dream laughed and curved himself beside George, blocking the man from the counter where he was busy trying to mix other baking ingredients; really, neither were sure how well this was going to turn out, but it was worth a shot.

“Dream,” George started again, briefly gasping before he was cut off by Dream pecking his lips lightly.

“Pay attention to me, Georgie.”

“Shut up,” George whispered in return, cheeks glowing pink. He shifted to the side, sliding the bowl across with him to resume the mixing. Unfortunately, Dream didn’t allow him much tranquility.

“ _George_ ,” Dream whined, pressing up against him from behind. His arms snaked underneath George’s, causing him to drop the rubber spoon in the bowl and press his palms flat against the marble counter. He nipped gently at the back of George’s ear, enjoying the subtle way the Brit shivered and leaned back against him.

“Dream, stop.”

“Do you really want me to?”

When George fell silent, Dream’s smirk grew wider against his skin. He muttered a quiet, “that’s what I thought,” and resumed his teasing, trailing kisses down the nape of his neck. The collar of George’s shirt blocked him from trailing further, so instead the blond pulled up the back of George’s arm, kissing along his hand and wrist from where he could reach.

George turned slightly, meeting Dream with an affectionate gaze; the latter knew what this meant—George was slipping again and their cake was likely to remain unfinished for quite some time.

“Dream,” the Brit whispered.

“George,” Dream returned.

The slightest bit annoyed, George pulled his boyfriend down into a hard kiss. Dream pressed back until the counter surely was hurting George’s tailbone and Dream lifted him up onto it, feeling the older’s hands move from his chest up to his shoulders.

“You taste faintly of whipped cream,” Dream teased when they broke for a breath. George’s fingers laced behind his neck and held Dream close against his forehead.

“You’re stupid.”

“You wanted to kiss me.”

George scoffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s your fault if we can’t have cake tonight.”

“Oh, so this is going to be an all night thing?” Dream quirked a brow and hummed as George’s face turned a darker shade of pink. His nails lightly duh into the back of Dream’s neck, but not enough to really hurt.

“Shut up,” he said again, exasperated.

Dream began to shower his face in light butterfly kisses, keeping himself propped between George’s legs with his hands against the edge of the counter. “Why?”

“Why?” George echoed, partly confused. “Because you’re annoying.”

“You love me, though.”

“I love the thought of you,” George corrected.

“Ouch.” Dream winced slightly, reaching one hand up to cup George’s cheeks between his fingers. “You can’t just say you love me?”

The Brit huffed, though the noise came out as more of a sputter with how Dream was holding his face. He swatted Dream’s hand away for only a moment before draping his arms back around the younger’s neck. “No,” he said simply.

“Why not? I love you, George, just say it back.”

“Dream, please, the cake—”

“I don’t care about the cake, George.” Dream’s eyes flashed with something unknown and George shuddered; he felt like fighting him any longer would just be a waste of time.

“Fine,” he sighed, twirling his fingers around the short blond hair at the base of Dream’s neck. “I love you, Dream. Good?”

“You sound _so_ dishonest.”

George hummed, grinning as he pressed another soft kiss to Dream’s chapped lips. “I’ll be more honest if you let me finish the cake first.”

“You’re cruel,” Dream whined, though he pulled away obediently like a trained dog.

“But you love me,” George responded, turning Dream’s own words against him.

“I do.”

Rolling his eyes, the older hopped down from the counter and grabbed the discarded bowl to resume mixing; the silence didn’t last long, since it only took a few moments for the oven to shriek as it reached the temperature they had set it to before they had gotten sidetracked.

“Shit,” George hissed, furiously mixing the batter until it felt good enough. “Dream, get the pan.”

“Roger!” Dream reached beneath the counter and snatched a baking dish from the cabinet, setting it down beside George. The latter quickly poured out the contents of the bowl, scooping out the last of what he could reach before it was sent off into the oven without another word.

Sighing, George wiped the sweat from his forehead and glanced around at the kitchen; it was littered with open ingredients and dirtied utensils. It would be a bitch to clean up, especially with how he could tell that Dream wanted to skip all of that and just go straight to making out again—the bounce of his heels and fidgeting of his hands gave him away easily.

“Clean first,” George instructed, watching Dream shift from eager to annoyed in mere seconds.

“But,” the blond started, but George silenced him with a glare. Begrudgingly, he muttered, “fine.”

“Then we can kiss all you want.”

“All I want?”

George huffed; there was a high chance he wouldn’t be able to get out of this, but, hell, it was Dream and he loved the damn idiot no matter how much he teased him about it. “All you want,” he repeated. “Since I love you so much.”

A loud gasp ripped through George’s ears and he turned in time just to see Dream charge at him, squeezing his frail body into one of the tightest hugs he’d ever had.

“Aw, Georgie, you really _do_ love me!”

“Oh my god, Dream, _I can’t breathe_ , let me go!”

“But you love me!”

“ _Dream_!”

When Dream released him, George heaved in a breath and dramatically held a hand over his chest. “You’re nuts,” he sputtered through broken giggles. “You’re gonna kill me.”

“No way, not after you say you love me a million times over, at least.”

“That is _not_ happening.”

“I’ll kiss it out of you, then.”

“Just get back to cleaning already!” George rubbed a hand over his ever-reddening face and groaned. He certainly did love Dream, but the asshole could be a handful. Rather, he _was_ a handful. All the time.

Well, he loved him, so it was okay.

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to drop some more requests below if you want !! 👍


End file.
